Little side note: when we first came home from Uganda, Dave declared he'd like to take over the laundry responsibilities. I won't get nitty gritty, but bottom-line is that I reclaimed that job a couple months later. I also bought brand new towels for the entire household and cut our old towels into rags for washing the car - since we don't care if our car smells like mold, but we do care if we use a musty towel after showering and it makes our skin smell like a wet basement...but that's for another post (one I won't bother writing, cuz you get the idea). Anyway - we now have all new fluffy towels that are washed and dried regularly. Hooray!
But last week every single towel in our house was used for an emergency mop-up job when our air conditioner's dehumidifier thingy overflowed and flooded our furnace room and seeped into our toy closet in the basement, and our carpet was soaked in a 5x5 foot area in the family room too...after lots of scurrying, heavy breathing, panic, fans, and wet towels - I think we're in the clear as far as long term damage to the carpet.
Today, however, I had the boys on their potty chairs and the girls were in the upstairs bathroom giving two baby dolls a hair washing in the sink. I was cleaning up the breakfast dishes, and peeked in on the girls. "oh, oh, girls. you can wash the dolly's hair, but don't stop up the sink like that, it could overflow." I say, and then I head downstairs to put the wet clothes from the washer into the dryer. Do you see where this is going? I wander back upstairs, sit and play on the floor with the boys for a minute while they're on their potty chairs, and then I go peek in on the girls.
I scream: "WHAT in the WORLD!! " I am standing in the doorway of the bathroom, and my socks are soaking wet. The floor is covered in water. So much water that there are silly band bracelets floating in the water. The faucet was flowing, the stopper engaged, water spilling over the counter and onto the floor. Who needs a splash park, when you can make one in your own bathroom? The girls were in their undies. Clothes in a pile in the water on the floor. Ruby sitting on the counter with her feet in the sink. The dolls were on the floor - floating in 1/2 inch of water.
I opened the cupboard and took every towel and threw 'em on the floor to mop up the home made lake. The waste basket that I freshly emptied 20 minutes earlier now had an inch or so of water in it - the perfect receptacle for the waterfall that was flowing from the sink and counter. Sadie stood covering her ears and whimpering. I said nothing, just did loud deep breathing. "Good job, Momma, good breathing like a Polar Bear." says Ruby. But I don't stay quiet for long. I decide to unleash the wrath of angry impatient Momma. "You know, Girls?! (sigh) Can't I leave you alone for even 3 minutes? Ruby, are you the big sister? What's your job? This was a foolish choice! Foolish! I specifically told you not to stop up the water, but NO you decided to do what you wanted to do, not what you knew was the right choice. Obedience is always the right choice. You are not the boss, Ruby and LouLou. God made you and you belong to Him. (sigh loudly to cast a guilt trip) You know what, just go to your room, Ruby, and I'll come there in a minute. And Sadie, you go help your brothers (who were in the other room screaming for some reason)"
So I make two trips to the laundry room in the basement with arm loads of heavy wet towels. And I'm fuming, and steam is coming out of my ears. (As I type this I realize a wet bathroom floor isn't such a big deal, and I'm ashamed of my reaction and don't want to publish this post...but in the interest of being real, I will.) Anyway, I labor back up the stairs and down the hallway to Ruby's room. She is on her bed crying crocodile tears. I sigh again. "Momma, I've been here trying to say all my memory verses so God will love me again." UGH. My throat closes in. Where do we learn such wrong theology. Where does she get the idea that God only loves her when she is obedient? "Love you again, Ruby? No, no. God never stops loving you. I still love you too. I'm so glad I get to be your momma forever. I love you when you're sweet, and I love you when you're sassy, and I love you when you are kind to your family, and I love you when you disobey and make a mess in the bathroom....." And I rehearse the Gospel with her. I tell her that Jesus loves sinners, and I'm so thankful because I'm a sinner, and I sinned just now by being impatient and talking unkindly to my children. I tell her that I need Jesus to wash away my sin and make me clean, and I need Jesus to be at work in my heart helping me to love others more than I love my own convenience...and I ask her if she understands that God loves her even when she decides to be her own boss, and that I am praying that God would help her to trust Him to be her boss, and show her the fullest life possible.
I know a lot of what I said while sitting on her bed, with her on my lap in her undies, was probably over her head and lost on her short attention span...but I was saying it for myself too. I was trying to remind myself: Jesus loves sinners like me. Not because I recite true statements, not because I do penance or avoid sinning in the first place - but He loves me. Wet towels and all.
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